Hope is a thing with feathers
by Mina Rain
Summary: A conversation between two souls, different and yet so much alike, in the midst of a losing battle.


A/N: Yes, I took the title from that famous poem. Kudos to anyone who recognized it. I love this pairing, so just had to write something… Hope you enjoy! My first attempt at angst, though to be honest, I don't think it's all that angsty -.-"

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Hope is a thing with feathers

Swords clashed above his lying form. The only sound he could hear, for all his other senses were closed off from the world. His eyes were shut tight- he didn't need to see who it was that was trying to protect him in this helpless state. That idiot. But, admittedly, he was rather glad for the distraction. It took away the unmistakable sensation of blood draining from his body. Not that he could feel his wound anymore, anyway. His whole upper torso had gone numb from the dull pain.

The noises suddenly stopped, and Grimmjow wondered if the fight had come to an end. No one seemed to be dying, though. Well, apart from him, that is. He creaked his eyelids open just a bit, enough to see Ulquiorra's face looming some feet above his.

"Leave him alone!" Kurosaki's voice rang out, hollow-like.

"I see," Grimmjow heard the emo bastard reply in that annoyingly calm tone of his, "so it truly doesn't matter if you've no more friends to save, is that right, Kurosaki Ichigo? You'll just go on saving other random people next. You really are a fool."

There was no reply. Instead, calloused arms wrapped around his body, and Grimmjow found himself being lifted up. Surprised, he yelled out in alarm. He had thought it was Ulquiorra, coming to finish him off. Instead, he was being carried through the air, at the speed of a shunpo or a sonido. His vision, now slightly blurry, caught glimpses of the black cloak billowing all around him, contrasting the orange shade that just had to be the substitute shinigami's hair.

They stopped and landed somewhere in a tower. Grimmjow was set down on a cold, concrete floor.

"He'll find us," he heard his voice echoing in the empty room.

"Nah," Ichigo said, sitting himself on the floor and leaning back against the wall. "He made no move to follow us. I guess he needs a little break, as well." The boy's voice did not betray any emotions he might've been feeling at the moment. Grimmjow sat up slowly, wincing as he did so.

"Be careful, you're half dead," Ichigo warned.

"No shit," despite himself, Grimmjow chuckled. He leaned his head back against the cool wall, just like Ichigo did. Turning to look at his enemy, he noted the weariness in the vizard's brown eyes. His overall expression was somber, resembling someone of an old age, coming home and exhausted from the world he'd experienced. The Ichigo now looked very different from the last time Grimmjow saw him. He wondered what happened after their fight. The orange-haired shinigami had gone to rescue that big-breasted girl. What happened, then?

After a silence, Grimmjow decided that his companion wasn't going to say anything else.

"Why'd you save me?" He found himself asking. It had bothered him ever since Ulquiorra came back, followed closely by Ichigo racing to get to his injured form before the Cuarta Espada.

"Ulquiorra was gonna finish you off, just couldn't leave you there, I guess," Ichigo shrugged. That triggered something in Grimmjow. He felt a scowl forming on his face.

"I hate you." He ground out. It was simply a fact that wasn't going to change, regardless of how many times the boy would save him.

"I know," Ichigo said. He didn't seem the least bothered by Grimmjow's comment. This made the Sexta Espada even angrier, but he wasn't in any shape to do anything about it. So instead, he let words pour out, things that had been kept in ever since he met the substitue shinigami.

"I hate your pathetic determination to fucking save everyone," Grimmjow started, and found himself unable to stop there. "I hate your lameass Bankai uniform, your freakish zanpakuto, your stupid hair, your stupid eyes. Everything about you just makes me sick." He felt his own face contorting in disgust as he spat out each word. The subject of his insult, however, remained sitting there. He just looked at the angry Espada apathetically.

Grimmjow felt like crying. For the first time, probably, since he lost his left arm along with his rank. It wasn't from the physical pain that his body was enduring. It was a sheer force of emotion he felt when he looked into Ichigo's meaningful eyes but found nothing there.

"I hate the fact that even when you're surrounded by the stupid people you call friends, you look so damn lonely." He finally finished.

Ichigo stared at him. "Grimmjow," he said, his voice wavering slightly. "My friends are dead."

Grimmjow winced. He did not expect that.

"What?"

"Inoue was killed by Ulquiorra," Ichigo said, tears slowly forming in the corners of his eyes. Grimmjow was taken aback. For a moment there, he lost the ability to speak. So the substitute shinigami failed at his mission, at rescuing that chic?

"I don't know where the rest of them are," Ichigo went on, now sobbing quietly. "I thought everything was going to turn out just fine, but now I can't feel their reiatsu anymore. They've suddenly disappeared."

Grimmjow looked down at his own feet. He didn't know how to comfort someone, so he didn't dare try.

Another long silence passed between them. The air in the room was stale, and rather chilly. Grimmjow tugged his small jacket closer to his chest. He was shivering.

"Why do you work for Aizen, anyway?" Ichigo suddenly spoke. His tears now somewhat dried. "You don't seem to be the type to take orders."

"Che, fuck if I know," Grimmjow said, glad for a change of topic. "He's an asshole and I hate him even more than I do you."

"I see," Ichigo managed a chuckle. "So why not leave?"

"How?" Grimmjow couldn't help it, he barked obnoxiously. "Crawl out on all my fours? I'm dying here, if you haven't noticed."

"There's a healer here, from Soul Society. I'll see to it that she tends to you soon, after I go back into battle."

"You still set on defeating that bastard Ulquiorra?"

Ichigo didn't say anything. He gripped his sword tighter.

"The battle could still turn around, you'll see. Somehow, we won't let Aizen get away with this." Ichigo said, his tone suddenly light. Grimmjow couldn't understand it, at all.

"What is it with you humans and your unreasonable hopes? Don't they ever just fade away? Every time I strike you down, you'd be up again and all hopeful for a better outcome." Grimmjow said, feeling very much helpless. He didn't know why.

There was no reply. Ichigo used the tip of his sword as a support as he stood up. He turned to leave, waving for Grimmjow to stay down and wait there. The last words he heard from his enemy echoed in the empty space, even after he left.

"Humans live on hope. Without it, we die. It's as simple as that."

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End file.
